by Tara Wylde
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Erin
Garret turns into a building that looks like it has been around since the First World War. It’s made out of cinder blocks and it looks like someone poured a giant can of oil over the entire building. It’s been divided into several different bays, and each bay has a different colored garage door. A purple one at about the halfway point of the building opens as we approach.
The motorcycle’s engine continues its deep rumbling purr as Garret drives it directly into the now open bay and parks.
I slide off the back and stand for a moment, my hand still on the seat as I wait for my legs to adjust to being back on solid ground. Between the constant throb of the bike and the delightful mid-drive romp Garret and I enjoyed, they’ve gotten more of a workout than expected tonight.
Overhead lighting illuminates the entire bay. A long workbench is shoved against one wall, but unlike the workbench at my parents’ house, it’s neatly organized, not a single tool out of place. I’ve no doubt that Garret knows where each piece is and can find whatever he needs without even having to look for it.
The only thing that isn’t organized is a hunk of metal laying in the center of the bay. I walk a slow circle around it, trying to figure out what it is.
Garret watches me.
I make one more circle before halting in front of him. “I give up. I’m ninety percent certain it’s motorcycle, but after that, I don’t have a clue.”
Garret moves to stand beside me. Somehow his hand finds mine and envelopes it. “Once I get the parts and put it back together, this baby is going to be a 1923 Harley-Davidson Flat Twin Model WF.”
“It looks like a pile of scrap metal to me.”
Garret stares at me in mock horror. “This pile of scrap metal, as you call it, is the pieces and parts of a magnificent machine. One of the few that will still be around. Granted, it’s not as sexy as the 1947 model, but it’s still an important part of the Harley-Davidson history and will turn heads once I have it up and running.”
I give the heap of twisted metal another glance and shrug. “If you say so.”
“Give me a few months, and we can take an inaugural ride on this one.” Garret’s thumb glides across the back of my hand. His eyes capture mine. “And it just so happens that this particular machine was ideal for carrying two passengers. So as soon as I’ve got it up and running, we’ll take it into the mountains for a long drive.”
My eyes shine. “Promise?” I wonder if he realizes that this is the first time that we’ve even explored the possibility of a future between us. The idea sets loose a flock of butterflies in my tummy.
Garret grins down at me. “Just so long as you promise to keep the ride as exciting as today’s was.”
Still holding hands, I turn to face him. “I think I can arrange something.” I rise up on my toes, bringing my mouth a few inches from his. “But I’ll probably need some practice.”
“I can see that.” Garret’s free hand cups my hip.
I shift even closer. My breasts press into his chest. My heart slams itself into my sternum while blood roars in my ears and my pussy throbs. “Probably we should get started now. Just so we can make sure that everything’s perfect when you finally get the bike repaired.”
“I can see the wisdom in that type of thinking.”
My free hand finds the front of his pants and quickly undoes the button and zipper. I pull the two sides apart. His cock springs free and I lick my lips.
“You’re staring,” Garret grunts, his tone guttural.
I shoot him an amused grin before dropping my gaze back to his member. It’s a thing of beauty; just the sight of it makes my heart hammer.
“Are you complaining?”
“No, not at all,” he laughs and trails his hand up my arm and around my shoulder, aiming for the row of pretty snaps that run down the front of my blouse.
Without any conscious thought, my knees buckle, and I drop down so I’m eye level with his cock.
Acting on impulse, I lean forward and drop a kiss to its tip. The gesture causes it to jump and Garret’s head bangs against the wall as he lets out a guttural yell.
I slant a glance up at him through my lowered lashes. “Like that?”
“What do you fucking think?” he groans.
“I think—a” My breath blows across the aroused flesh has his hands clenching into tight fists. “—that the fun is just beginning.”
Before he can respond, I slide my mouth over him, steadily taking him deeper and deeper until the tip nudges the back of my throat.
Considering how large it was before I encircled it with my lips, I wouldn’t have thought it could possible grow any larger, but it does. I love how the way it swells makes it fill my mouth.
I reach up and cup his balls, my thumb lightly stroking his soft scrotum as my tongue dances along the length of his shaft.
“Shit,” he groans between clenched teeth, “that feels so fucking good.”
“Mmm,” I purr against him, loving the effect I have on him. He’s completely at my mercy. Who would have guessed that a blow job could feel so empowering?
His fingers tangle in my hair, holding me tightly against him as I lick and suck. Each thrust of his hips, each moan he makes, turns me on. I never thought I’d ever feel so uninhibited, so wild. My lips tighten around him as my tongue traces the engorged and pulsating vein on the underside of his cock and I take even more of him into my mouth.
“Erin.” His grip on my hair tightens and he draws my head back, tugging my mouth off him with a soft popping sound.
“Hey,” I protest, “I’m having fun.”
“Me too.” Using his grip on my hair, Garret tugs me to my feet. Pivoting, he flattens me against the wall. “But your mouth isn’t where I want to come. Not now.”
“Oh.” I wrap my hand tightly around the base of his penis, delighting in how it bucks against my grip. “Does that mean there’s going to be another time?”
“Fucking count on it,” he growls against my neck as his hands grapple with the waistband of my jeans, his fumbling fingers finally working the button through the little slot. In one smooth move, he shoves both my jeans and my panties down around my ankles.
I bite his shoulder as his fingers slide between my already slick lower lips and graze my clit, triggering a fresh wave of moisture which coats his questing digits.
“You’re so wet, so ready for me,” he groans against the side of my neck.
“And you’d better be prepared to do something about it.” I arch my back, pressing my shoulders against the wall and grinding myself against his hand. “Otherwise, I just might finish without you.”
“Wouldn’t want that to happen,” Garret groans as he slides his free hand down my bare thigh. His fingers curl around the back of it and he lifts, hooking it around his hip as I wrap my calf around his waist.
My shoulders press against the unforgiving wall as he slides into me. My inner walls convulse around him as his hips rock to and fro, and the speed and force increases with each thrust.
Both of his hands grip my hips with bruising force as he holds me flush against the wall. His sharp teeth nip at my neck before he buries his face in my breasts, nuzzling them through my shirt and bra.
Wrapping one arm around his neck, I slide the other lower until my fingers glide across my clit, sending a fresh jolt of electric sensation rocketing through my pussy.
One of his hands slides down, working its way between me and the wall until his fingers dig into my bare ass cheek. He squeezes it as he lifts me even higher while he thrusts deeper, each jerk of his hips stronger, more intense than anything I’ve ever felt before.
“Oh God,” I cry out as he gives one last, almost violent thrust. I spasm around him as his climax triggers mine.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Garret
“How come you started restoring motorcycles?” Erin is lying in my bed, her head on my shoulder, after yet another round of lovemaking t
hat left both of us weak kneed and spent. Harlan is snoring happily on the floor beside the bed and Sammy watches us from his new favorite perch on my dresser.
I stroke her bare back. “I’ve always been really good with my hands. I started studying auto repair while I was still in high school, and wrapped up the vocational training just before Maddie and I got married.” I pause a moment, to see how Erin reacts to the mention of my late wife. Nothing.
“I enjoyed the work, but I didn’t fall in love with my job until one of the customers asked if I would be interested in earning a little extra money on the side. He’d wrecked his practically new Triumph Bonneville and wanted me to rebuild it for him. I don’t know why but working on that bike was more fun than working on cars.”
I sense Erin watching me as I talk, like she’s absorbing every single word I say. I play with the ends of her hair.
“I took the money I earned from that project and bought this terrible junker bike. It took me a year to restore it, but once I did I was well and truly hooked. Some people knit, some do yoga, some go on long walks when they want to relax and enjoy themselves. Instead of doing those things, I restore bikes. Especially antique bikes.”
“What do you do with them once you restore them? Do you have some private garage or showroom somewhere?” Erin’s voice is thick with sleep.
“Nope.” I close my eyes and shift into a slightly more comfortable position before pulling Erin close to my side. “I play with them for a while, then I donate them to some local charity. They auction the bike off and keep whatever money they make.”
Erin sits bolt upright. Her eyes are round as saucers as she stares down at me. “You’re kidding!”
“No.”
She shoves her hair behind her ear. There’s something about her body language that makes me think that if she weren’t in bed, she’d be pacing.
“That’s exactly the type of program I’m trying to get my business involved with. I could promote the hell out of a motorcycle charity auction.” Her expression turns pleading and she rests one of her hands on my chest. “The next time you’re donating one of the bikes, will you please let me know so I can handle the marketing?”
“I don’t know, it feels too early in the relationship to be adding business to the mix. Don’t you think?”
“First, I’d do all the work for free. Second, this relationship came about because you offered to be my sex coach. Wait a minute.” She mentally rewinds the conversation. “Relationship. Is that what we have?”
“We’ve spent every single free minute together for the past 72 hours. We’ve made love so many times I’ve lost count.” I gently urge her to lie back down beside me. “I hated that you had to go to work. I make you laugh. Yep, sounds like a relationship to me. What would you call it?”
Erin wrinkles her nose and considers the question. “Something that’s stuck between weekend long love fest and dating.”
I chuckle and wrap my arms around her. “I do like you, Erin.”
I wait until I know she’s asleep before I finally dare whisper the statement that’s burning my throat with its need to be released. “I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Falling in love with her was easy. The tricky part is going to be convincing her to fall for me.
Chapter Forty
Erin
“Damn it.”
The roar from the study startles Harlan, who turns and runs into Garret’s bedroom. Sammy, sensing my dog’s distress, jumps off the counter and follows. In the week that Harlan and I have been basically living in Garret’s penthouse, the pair haven’t exactly become friends, but they are curious about one another and study each other with the same intensity and devotion that a scientist would devote to rats in a maze.
Pushing the pile of paperwork I’ve spent the better part of the morning working on to the middle of the table, I leave the kitchen and walk to Garret’s study. He’s sitting behind his desk, glaring daggers at his computer.
“What was all that noise about?”
Garret jabs a finger at the desktop computer. “It’s this damned machine. All week, it’s been acting funny. I’ve run a few different clean up programs on it, but they don’t seem to make any difference. Today, it’s barely moving at all. It’s making me crazy.” He shoots me a hopeful glance. “I don’t suppose you know anything about these things, do you?”
I move to stand behind him and massage his shoulders. “I know how to turn them on and how to use a few programs, but other than that, I’m clueless. But I have a laptop in my apartment you’re welcome to borrow.”
“Thanks for the offer, but there are specific programs on this one that I need to use.” Sighing impatiently, Garret leans forward and shuts the computer off. “I’ll call Hannah tomorrow.”
“Your housekeeper? Why?” While Hannah’s a great housekeeper, she doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who has a magic touch with computers.
“Sort of. Her son, Eli, is a whiz with them,” Garret explains. “He was suspended from school because he hacked into the school program just to prove he could. Basically, he just has to look at this and basically, he, I don’t know, puts some technology whammy on it, and the thing starts to work.”
It takes me a minute to call up a picture of Hannah’s son. I remember he’s a tall kid, painfully thin, with big hands and feet that he hasn’t grown into yet. Dark, tiny hair. A nice face, and a bright orange hoop ring through one eyebrow.
“Does he do freelance IT work?” I push on the back of Garret’s chair, swiveling him around until I can sit on his lap. It’s the best seat in the house. “Tracy and I need to update our entire computer system, but we’ve been putting it off because hiring someone to come in and set things up will cost us a fortune. If he’ll do it for just a little less, I’ll happily hire him.”
“All you can do is ask.” Garret wraps an arm around my shoulders, and then cups my right breast, gently kneading it. I squirm as the now familiar, but no less exciting, heated tingles spiderweb through me until they activate all my erogenous zones. “So, now that I can’t work. What are we going to do to pass the time?” He bows his head and nips the sensitive skin where my neck and shoulder meet. I shiver in response as my insides melt. I lean in closer and my head falls to the side, granting him better access.
“Mmm. Much as I’d like to stay right here and let you have your wicked way with me, I can’t. I have an event I have to go to tonight.” Though my resolve is melting fast. Sometimes I seriously wonder if Garret doesn’t have magic lips.
“What kind of event?” Garret’s mouth moves from my neck to my ear lobe and I shudder.
“A charity deal. Tracy and I handled all of the publicity for them.” I suddenly remember something. “You know, I completely forgot to mention this to you, but the woman running tonight’s event was in my office when you couriered the sex oil, stockings, and garters to me. She was fascinated and said that I should bring you with me to this thing. Want to go?”
I hold my breath.
By no means are Garret and I keeping our relationship a secret. Hannah and several other people who live in the Dovetail are aware that we’re seeing each other, but we haven’t exactly been advertising it either. If he agrees to go with me tonight, it’d be our very first official public date.
Garret shoots an irritated look at his computer. “You’re going and I’m not going to be getting any work done before that stupid thing gets fixed. So yeah, I’ll tag along.”
“Excellent.” Cupping his head between my hands, I plant a kiss on his lips that leaves both of us gasping for air and wondering if we really do have to go out tonight. Deciding that the only way I’m going to fulfill my obligations to The Sex Project is by putting distance between myself and Garret, I slide off his lab and take two large steps away from his chair. “We have to leave in about half an hour. Dress is casual. There will be food there.”
I take another step back and grin at him. “I think this is going to be a night that neither of us
will forget.”
Chapter Forty-One
Erin
The Sex Project is located in a business section near the east side of Tucson. Eleven years ago, Donna and her husband moved their business out of a tiny shop in a strip mall and into an enormous warehouse that they share with a video rental store, a loose-leaf tea shop, and a business that owns half the warehouse which is rented out for various things such as kid’s birthday parties to weddings, to archery events. Tonight, The Sex Project has dibs on the space and is using it for their fundraiser event. It’s a smart choice. Not only do they have a great deal of space and can invite people to explore their shop, the setup also allows people who aren’t comfortable with the idea of walking into a store that sells sex toys to attend and have a good time.
I survey the enormous parking lot and grin. “It looks like they’ve got a great turnout tonight, doesn’t it?”
I know that lots of people were attracted to tonight’s event because it’s raising money to help women who are fighting to get whatever kind of help they need after being a victim of a sex crime. Ever since the #MeToo campaign took over the world, events like this one have been seeing outstanding attendance. But I also know that the work Tracy and I put into advertising this event is the main reason so many people know that there’s even an event to attend.
Garret finds an empty spot near the back of the lot and we climb out of the Cayenne. Hand in hand, we walk toward the warehouse.
Garret reads the sign on the front of the building that has the names of the businesses the warehouse holds and chuckles. “The Sex Project? Really? When I sent you that box of goodies, I had no idea you were familiar with this place. Talk about karma.”
